And Many More
by pineapplefreak
Summary: A birthday isn't always a time to celebrate- at least, not in the life of Sam Winchester. A collection of little snapshots of Sam's birthdays throughout his years.


**I wasn't intending to write two stories in three days especially when there are others that need updating, but after reading something a bit like this focusing on Dean, my muse decided to abandon the other projects and bother me until I wrote this one on Sam. It's a new style that I don't usually use, a bit more flowing and in present tense, so I would love to know how it turned out. Please enjoy! **

* * *

Sam Winchester is born on a clear spring day, with the sun streaming in on the floor of the clean hospital room. Mary, sweaty and exhausted but still radiant with joy, cradles him in her arms as he opens his eyes for the first time. Her boys surround her on every side. John reaches out and gently brushes his baby boy's face. Mary smiles and holds out the newborn child to her four year old son, whose eyes are wide as saucers. _Say hello to your little brother, Dean,_ she says to him.

_Hi, Sammy,_ Dean breathes, and grasps Sam's tiny hand as carefully as if it was made of glass. Sammy gurgles happily and wraps his small fist around Dean's finger, and for a moment everything is perfect.

* * *

Sam's first birthday is the first of many to be spent in a cheap motel room. John sits at the crooked table with a bottle or two of whiskey, too caught up in his despair to remember what the day is because it's been six months and he can still smell the smoke.

Dean sits on the bed and holds Sammy in his lap while John drinks himself into a stupor not ten feet away. He hums "Happy Birthday" under his breath and tells Sam that Daddy will be better in the morning, and then they can have a real birthday party like the one Dean had when he turned one with chocolate cake that got smeared across the high chair and ice cream that fell on the floor and his parents' laughter at his antics.

But it wouldn't be the same, Dean knows, because Mommy was the one who baked his cake and Mommy isn't here anymore.

* * *

When Sam turns five he's still mostly too little to know what a normal birthday is like and that the way they live isn't normal, but Dean knows and he wants him to have a normal birthday anyway. He coaxes John into buying a small little cake in a plastic box from the gas station's snack section and they sing to Sam in the motel room. Sam eats the tiny snack cake all by himself and Dean lets him, teasing him about how he's half a decade old, practically ancient.

Sam asks what a decade is and Dean just laughs, and John does too because it's a good day and he hasn't gotten drunk in six months.

* * *

On Sam's ninth birthday Dean and John teach Sam how to shoot with a handgun and some cans on a fence. Sam's a natural and learns quickly but Dean can tell he's feigning his happiness for their benefit. It was only last Christmas that Sam even found out about the things Dad hunts, and Sam wishes he'd never learned the truth at all. He doesn't let it show, though, because he loves it when Dad ruffles his hair in pride after he nails a shot.

They end the day with a box of cupcakes, a bottle of soda, and a rented movie that Sam wanted to see and he goes to sleep thinking that as far as Winchester birthdays go, it really wasn't bad at all. At least Dad's here- which happens less and less often these days.

* * *

Sam's thirteenth birthday starts out with the announcement that he doesn't want to be called Sammy anymore. Dean laughs at him and says that he's always going to be Sammy whether he likes it or not. All the way to the graveyard where they are dropping by for a quick salt and burn, Dean keeps up an incessant stream of _SammySammySammySammySammySammy _just to annoy himuntil both John and Sam are threatening to strangle him if he doesn't shut the hell up. He does, but only because they're trying not to attract too much attention to their illegal grave desecration.

The ghost appears out of nowhere like it always does, only this time their reactions aren't fast enough because Dean is still whispering _SammySammySammySammySammySammy _under his breath and it distracts Sam long enough for the spirit to pluck him right out of the grave and start tossing him around like a hacky sack.

John starts shooting wildly and Dean starts salting frantically in panic, and both the bones and the ghost go up in flames but not before Sam crashes into one of those angel statue grave markers and ends up with a broken arm and a severe concussion.

They spend the night in the hospital because John doesn't want to screw around with that hard a knock to the head. He's pissed at Dean but not as pissed as Dean is at himself, and the older brother can't stop apologizing to the younger and telling him he will call him Sam from now on, just like he wanted. Sam tells him it's okay, and he'll let Dean call him Sammy- just for tonight. And maybe tomorrow, too.

* * *

Sam celebrates his sixteenth birthday in Bobby's kitchen with Dean and Bobby himself, because John thinks he has a lead on whatever killed Mom in Alabama and he won't be back for a week at least. He used to leave Sam and Dean at Bobby's when he went on hunts when they were real little, and even though the boys are more than old enough to stay in a motel by themselves Bobby's house is a much better place to have a birthday than some grimy, bad-smelling motel room.

Dean lets Sam take the Impala out for a joyride (with his obsessive supervision, of course) because he _is _sixteen after all, even if he has already been driving for years and has his own collection of fake driver's licenses. They stop out in a field in the middle of nowhere and sit and talk and have a couple of beers before heading back to Bobby who has- surprise!- baked a cake for the occasion. Sam cracks a joke about him being like a grandma that loves to cook and Bobby hurls a half-hearted _shut up, ya idjit _back at him and Sam doesn't really mind all that much that John isn't here. They would probably just end up getting into a fight if he was- it seems like they've been doing that a lot lately.

* * *

Sam's eighteenth isn't much; an affectionate cuff across the back of the head to wake him up from Deanand a _Happy birthday, Sam _from Dean and John each. A hunt takes up most of the day, and Sam only argues with John about the right way to take the monster down once. After they get home and wash off the blood and treat their various cuts and bruises, they have a few cold ones outside in the unusually warm night.

Sam goes inside earlier than usual and sits by himself staring at the now crumpled letter he's been hiding at the bottom of his duffel with the seal of Stanford across the front and wonders how he's going to break the news.

* * *

Sam thinks his twenty-first birthday is the best he's ever had. He and his usual group of friends- it still feels strange to have a _usual _group of friends- go out to a bar near campus and even though Sam's no stranger to drinking he shows his ID to the bartender proudly because it's the real one this time. He has a good time because the drinks are good and the music is loud and the dancing is fun and the jokes are hilarious and he can't help but think that Dean would have a lot of fun here.

He's still pretty sober when he leaves the bar, which is good because Jess is too and that means they can go back home and have a private celebration of their own. He thinks about how happy Jess makes him and how much he loves her and how lucky he is to have her. Not for the first time, he wonders what her ring size is.

* * *

Sam's twenty-third birthday is spent in yet another motel with just him and Dean. They don't really celebrate much other than an extra beer or two, but Sam's not in the mood for celebrating anyway because it's still too soon and every time he closes his eyes he can still see Jess burning on the ceiling and there's something broken in his chest, something sharp and bleeding and raw.

* * *

Sam's not sure how to feel about his twenty-fourth birthday. The Demon is dead and the Devil's Gate is closed so that makes him happy, but there are hundreds of demons on the loose now and apparently he wasn't even _alive _yesterday. Dean doesn't seem to care much about the deal he's made so long as Sam is vertical, but all Sam can think about is that his next birthday will be Dean's death day.

Not to mention something feels _wrong _inside him that's been clawing at his soul ever since he woke up. He looks back at what he did to Jake and fights the urge to be sick.

* * *

Sam's twenty-fifth birthday is every bit as bad as he feared it was going to be. No, actually, it's worse because the clock is striking midnight and the dogs are howling outside and Ruby isn't really Ruby and he's pinned against the wall and the hellhounds are ripping Dean apart and there's so much blood and so much screaming and Lilith can't even finish the job and do him the courtesy of killing him too and the light is gone from Dean's eyes and Sam wishes he had just stayed dead a year ago like he was supposed to.

Sam knows right then if he can't bring Dean back, then he's never going to celebrate on this day ever again, birthday or no.

* * *

On Sam's twenty-sixth birthday he wonders how it's possible for one person to screw up so badly. He doesn't celebrate. He doesn't _deserve _to celebrate. He'll celebrate when and only when Lucifer is dead and the Apocalypse is averted and this whole giant screwed-up mess he's made just by existing is cleaned up. And even then he might not celebrate; the world would be much better off if he'd never been born, anyway.

* * *

Sam knows the end is near on his twenty-seventh birthday. One by one their plans for icing the Devil have all gone to Hell, and every time someone has died for them- Ellen, Jo, Gabriel- Sam's idea of a last resort has started to look more and more like the only option left. He knows Dean won't be happy when he brings it up, but Sam knows- has always known, really- that it was always going to come down to just him and Lucifer.

Detroit looms in his future, and Sam is strangely okay with it.

* * *

Sam doesn't realize when his twenty-eighth birthday passes. Sam doesn't realize much of anything anymore; it has sort of all become a blur of constant agony until he can't remember what it feels like to not be in pain of indescribable enormity. The only thing he has to mark the passage of time is the start of some new torment, and it seems like there are an endless amount of those because in terms of torture Lucifer is the most creative person (angel, Devil, whatever- he doesn't even care anymore) he's ever met.

Dean realizes, though. He sees it coming for weeks and is almost afraid of what will happen when it arrives. And when it does, he takes out his baby from under the tarp in the garage (hidden away because she doesn't belong in suburbia any more than Dean does, but Dean's not allowed to hide under a tarp) and just drives. There's no one in the passenger seat but his old friend Jack Daniels, and even though this new passenger can't take the place of the old, Dean still tries to make it.

Hours later he's lying in a field unable to bring himself to move even though his phone is ringing and he can just hear Lisa's worried _Dean, where are you? Are you okay? Talk to me. _on the other end. He thinks Castiel might have joined him at some point, just sitting next to him quietly and looking up at the sky. But he's not sure because he hasn't seen Cas in months and Cas is an angel and Dean knows for a fact that no angel ever cared about Sam except for the one who has him right now.

The stars are beautiful tonight, which Dean doesn't understand because it must be raining because his face is wet.

* * *

Sam's twenty-ninth birthday is average. He and Dean go out to a bar and just hang out, have some beers, play pool, and try and forget about the world going to Hell (or rather, the Leviathans' stomachs) just for one night. Sam has a piece of pie because Dean insists that it's actually really good, and they don't drive back to the motel until the bar closes.

It would be a pretty good birthday, actually, all things considered. If Lucifer wasn't in the back seat singing to Sam at the top of his lungs. For his birthday present Lucifer rips Dean's heart out of his chest and holds it out to Sam, still beating and bloody. Dean doesn't notice. Sam swallows and fixes his eyes on the road.

* * *

Sam spends his thirtieth birthday with Amelia. They go for a walk in the park with Riot, and she tells him she left something in the car and she'll be right back. When she doesn't return, old familiar panic sparks in his gut because his past always, always finds him and it's _JessSarahMadisoneveryoneIeverloved _all over again.

But then he follows Riot around the corner and Amelia's sitting there in the sun with a smile and a picnic and a _Happy Birthday!_ For a moment all he can do is stare at her and the cake and the beauty and _What is this?_ And then she's saying, _You've never seen a birthday cake before? _He has, of course, but they've all been store bought snack cakes or shapeless messes or burnt hunks or botched icing jobs because his family was made of hunters, not bakers, after all.

He sits down next to Amelia in the soft grass and they eat and they drink and they laugh and they kiss, and Sam tries to ignore the voice in his head, Dean's voice, that says, _This isn't your life. _Because Dean's gone now and he doesn't know where he is and he doesn't know how to get him back and he's so tired of being alone and he's happy here and what is he supposed to do?

* * *

Sam enjoys his thirty-first birthday. He doesn't feel too much like crap (okay, yeah he does, because the trials make him feel like crap all the time but Dean doesn't need to know that) and tells Dean he doesn't want to spend all day in the bunker. So they go out and grab some food to go- real food, not just deep-fried everything- and a box of cupcakes and head over to Garth's boat. Kevin looks like death warmed over but he joins the party anyway because he can't possibly ignore them when Dean's got the radio blasting rock music full force.

They try to convince Kevin to have some beer even though he protests because he's only twenty and not even _legal _yet and Sam and Dean (who have already had a few drinks by this point) crack up and Dean tells about the time when he was fifteen and got so smashed he almost had sex with Janie Roberts with the _braces _and the _glasses _and the _frizzy hair _and wouldn't that have been awful and Sam says that Janie was actually a really nice girl, Dean, and Dean says yeah, he just bets Sam would have liked to get in bed with her and Sam reminds him he was eleven years old at that point and barely even in puberty and Kevin asks if he takes the beer will they please shut up?

They agree, and soon it's Kevin who's going on a drunken ramble about his old friends and how he misses them like hell but wouldn't they be so shocked if they knew that perfect Kevin Tran from Advanced Placement was drinking underage? Sam points out that they would probably be more shocked to hear he was a Prophet of the Lord and Dean says they would probably be most shocked that he's on the King of Hell's hit list which sobers Kevin up just a little until Sam passes him another beer.

Sam wakes up the next morning in a raft floating next to the houseboat with Dean's stomach as his pillow and Kevin's legs as his mattress and with no memory of getting there. He's got scribbles of God-speak that he probably doesn't want to know the meaning of all over his face in purple marker and he has a pounding headache, but he always has a pounding headache nowadays so he's counting this birthday as a good one.

* * *

Sam's thirty-second birthday passes mostly unnoticed, because the war between the angels is getting bad, real bad, and Sam doesn't have time to think about things like birthdays anymore. Abbadon is scheming away downstairs in Hell and they're all just waiting for her to launch herself into the fray right at its most chaotic. Sam almost thinks he preferred the Apocalypse, because back then at least he and Dean could postpone the destruction as long as they kept saying no, but there's nothing they can do now to stop the wrath of a million fallen angels and a merciless Queen of Hell.

He wouldn't be surprised if they did have to deal with a second Apocalypse on top of everything else; that would be just their luck if the chaos between Heaven and Hell shook the Cage open. Sam knows that's probably not possible, but at this point all he can think is hey, what's two more angels trying to destroy the world?

* * *

Sam's thirty-third birthday is spent alone. Because the Last War of Heaven and Hell as it has come to be called is over now, but not before it took thousands, maybe even millions of lives- angels, demons, monsters, people- no race was left unscathed. But all Sam really cares about is one life that was lost, one life that he would rather have than the lives of all the others.

Dean goes out like he always wanted, in a blaze of glory with a gun in his hand and Sam right beside him. He goes out like a hero, defending the innocent to his last breath and turning the tide of the battle in their favor. He goes out in Sam's arms while Sam cries, Sam begs, Sam screams at him to _don't leave me, don't you dare leave me, Dean._

But Dean just smiles, just looks up at Sam who's alive and mostly unhurt apart from the slow crushing pressure in his heart, and tells him it's okay, it's okay.

And Sam sobs because _It's not okay, Dean. Please, stay with me. _And he finds himself echoing Dean's words from that night at Stanford so, so, so long ago.

_I can't do this alone._

_Yes you can._

_Yeah, well, I don't want to._

But Dean's still smiling, still happy that Sam's there, saying Sam's stronger than he is, always has been, and he better go get that happy ending and live to a ripe old age or he'll kick his ass because he _promised._

And it's the mother of all chick flick moments but Sam doesn't care, he's telling Dean he loves him and Dean's saying it right back, and there's so many he things he wants to say but there's no time, so he just buries his head in Dean's chest just like he used to when he was little and innocent (was he ever innocent?) and Dean pulls him closer and whispers into his hair and then his last breath ghosts over him and Sam wails to whatever's left of those godforsaken heavens because his big brother's gone and something in him knows, just _knows _that he's not coming back this time.

Castiel comes to him when it's all over and tells him that there's been a treaty, a Holy Covenant that puts things back how they used to be, with the angels in Heaven watching but not interfering, guarding but not interacting, and the demons restrained to the shadows and unable to possess anyone. God has returned, Cas says, and Sam bitterly says it's about damn time. Sam is informed that he shouldn't worry, that Dean is in Heaven and, because as part of the Covenant Heaven is no longer made of billions of individual havens but open for anyone to go anywhere, he is with John and Mary and everyone he loves.

_Everyone except me, _Sam says, and the hated tears come before he can stop them.

And Cas, Castiel the angel who has never shed a tear in his whole existence, weeps with him because he cared about Dean too, cared a lot, and the Covenant keeps him from ever speaking to the one who he had come to call friend- no, family.

Sam understands that this is goodbye, that he will never see Castiel again, and when the angel departs with a final flutter of wings Sam finds himself alone again, alone always, alone forever.

He doesn't hunt after that. He thinks it's because a part of him knows he would just throw himself recklessly into danger and wouldn't plan on coming back out.

* * *

On Sam's thirty-fourth birthday the darkest year of his life is coming to an end, a year of drunken nights and lonely days and tears and screams and pain, and he remembers that he made Dean a promise to find himself a happy ending. And so, even though he doesn't want to, he forces himself to celebrate his own birthday at some bar- though it's partly an excuse to go out and get drunk so he can forget, or maybe remember. He's not sure which one he wants anymore.

He meets Jenn there, and it turns out she's there to drown her sorrows too. She tells him that when she was just a teenager she got pregnant with some boy that ran off and left her, but she had the baby and she loved her, raised her to be a beautiful teenager of her own. She was seventeen, Jenn says, seventeen when she was killed by a patch of ice on the road last year and she would have graduated this month. Sam tells her about Dean, his big brother Dean who was the bravest person you could ever meet, and Jenn tells her about Risa, who was the sweetest girl and who dreamed of becoming someone who could change the world.

It's a long night of both tears and laughter and not nearly as much alcohol as Sam had anticipated, and when they leave they have each others' numbers in their pockets and a considerably lighter weight on their hearts. Sam calls Jenn the next day and they make plans to meet again, and Sam can just hear Dean right next to him, grinning and slapping a hand on his shoulder. _Atta boy, Sammy._

* * *

On Sam's thirty-fifth birthday, he thinks he might be in love. Sam's always been careful with his heart, ever since Jess. In the past, he knew that anyone close to him got hurt, but there hasn't been a peep from the basement or the attic ever since the Last War and he doesn't hunt anymore, so he thinks that maybe he can let himself love again.

Besides, Jenn is everything he likes in a girl: funny, sweet yet feisty, beautiful, committed, loyal, brave. She likes books and "girly coffee", listens to and loves pretty much any music, isn't afraid to watch horror movies, joins Sam on his early morning jogs sometimes, is always excited to travel, never shies away from a thrill.

Jenn isn't Jess. Jenn will never be Jess, but even though Jess was the love of his life, he's starting to realize that he's been given a new chance at life. Jess was the love of that life, but maybe- just maybe- Jenn can be the love of this one.

* * *

On Sam's thirty-sixth birthday, he tells Jenn the truth.

She thinks he's crazy at first, and almost breaks up with him, until Sam begs her just to_ listen _just to _trust _him, and takes her to the Bunker. She's still not completely convinced, until he shows her the journals of countless hunters over the years and the accounts of the Men of Letters and pictures and videos and books and artifacts. He takes her to meet Garth, and then shows her the charred remains of Bobby's house and Stull Cemetery and Cold Oak and the old house in Lawrence and a few towns where he and Dean saved people over the years. He uses the Impala for transport, and it feels so familiar that a few times he's almost surprised to look over and see that it's Jenn sitting next to him.

She believes him, she believes everything, and Sam's new fear is that she will be afraid of him. But she just throws her arms around him and cries for him and for Mary and Jess and John and Bobby and Ash and Ellen and Jo and Kevin and Cas and Dean and everyone else he failed to save, and they just hold each other until they get up and go on, stronger.

* * *

On Sam's thirty-seventh birthday he's been engaged for months now. Jenn said yes when he asked her, and Sam can't deny that feeling of foolish happiness that fills him up inside every time he looks at her. They've moved in together in a small town in southern Kansas, where Sam got a good job at a restaurant until he can find something more permanent. He's thinking about maybe taking some college classes online- maybe he can be a lawyer after all.

Sam gave the key to the bunker to Garth, and he's mostly relieved to be away from that place, to be honest. It's always been too big and too empty and too quiet ever since Dean died, and he feels heavy whenever he walks in the door. Garth has set up home base for hunters there, and Sam feels strangely proud that the eccentric, scrawny hunter has so stepped up to the plate to fill the gaping hole the Winchesters left behind.

Jenn wants a winter wedding. Sam wonders why, and Jenn says it's because Risa died in winter and she wants to turn a time of sadness into something happy and Sam understands because Dean's birthday is in the winter too.

It's a beautiful wedding, and since Jenn is religious even after everything Sam's told her they have it in a church. Sam doesn't mind as much as he thought he would; in fact, the statues of the angels on the walls and ceiling make him smile more than anything else. They seal their marriage with a kiss and after the ceremony run outside to a land covered in fresh and still falling snow, and Sam thinks that even after everything- Azazel and the demon blood, Lucifer and the Apocalypse, the fallen angels and the War- he must have done something right.

* * *

On Sam's thirty-eighth birthday Jenn is very pregnant, and they find out it's twins, a boy and a girl. Jenn names the girl Ella Risa- Ella for her mother, Risa for the daughter she lost. Sam names the boy Bobby-John Dean. Jenn smiles at his decision, and immediately dubs their son BJ, which Sam loves.

They both take after their mother for the most part (blue eyes, same face type), though they have Sam's dark brown hair- and, he quickly learns, his dimples.

* * *

On Sam's thirty-ninth birthday he informs Ella and BJ that they are going to be having a little sister. They're still pretty little and don't really understand, but they smile and clap and press their ears to Mommy's tummy and listen for the baby anyway. Sam picks the first name and Jenn the middle, and they name their daughter Mary Haven. Sam jokes that it sounds like the name of some sort of medieval pub- _Ye Olde Merry Haven- _but in fact he thinks it's beautiful.

Mary has Jenn's dark blonde hair, Sam's long nose, and- he can't help but notice- Dean's green eyes.

* * *

His life is everything Sam dreamed it would be, both the good and the bad. It's normal and innocent and happy and _safe _and he loves every second of it, loves his family, his wife, his children. He never tells his children the truth about what's really out there in the dark, and tries to give them the childhood he never had. They never move, not once, and the kids go to the local elementary school and then the local junior high school and then the local high school. The friends they make in their early years stay their friends for the later years of their lives.

When BJ becomes a teenager he goes through a phase where he wants to learn to shoot a gun and hunt (rabbits and deer and geese and ducks and quail and squirrels and pheasants) and even though every deeply ingrained instinct in Sam is shouting _childmonstershuntinghurtinginnocentnononono_ he indulges his son and on BJ's thirteenth birthday takes him for a weekend hunting trip in the woods.

They shoot two rabbits, three ducks, and a deer, and the look on BJ's face when he takes down the doe-his first kill- is priceless, and even as he takes a picture of BJ with his prize he remembers his own first kill when he was ten years old and how in a panic he fired a whole cartridge into a Jersey Devil that was going after Dean. He reminds himself _that's not who I am anymore _and tells his kid he's proud of him as they lug the deer back to the cabin together.

* * *

Many years go by in a flash of first steps and first days of school and scraped knees and runny noses and soccer practices and ballet recitals and school projects and playdates and ice cream and hot chocolate and pet dogs and bugs in the house and mortgages and neighbors and grade school and high school and driver's tests and rock music blasting in the car and joy rides in the Impala and girlfriends and boyfriends (good thing Sam kept his guns over the years) and report cards and test grades and summer vacations and Christmas breaks and lectures and sulking teenagers and homecomings and proms and diplomas and tuitions and colleges and chaos and peace and heartbreak and drama and tears and laughs and so, so much more.

* * *

When Sam turns sixty his family throws him a party. BJ and Ella, who are now both married with babies of their own, are there, and so are Mary and her fiancé Dylan. Sam blows out the candles on the cake (and damn there's a lot of candles surely he's not _that_ old) and wonders if he should have more than one piece because normal life has made him soft and he's feeling the extra weight on his middle. His hair is thinning, too, and as Jenn slips him a bottle under the table with a wink he can hear _you, with a wife and kids and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra _and he thinks, _I gave you your happy ending, Dean. Are you happy now?_

* * *

On Sam's eightieth birthday his arthritis is getting pretty bad (the doctor asks him if he had a strenuous job or if he got a lot of injuries when he was younger and Sam just laughs) so he doesn't do much. His kids and grandkids and even his one baby grandkid come and visit him and Jenn and they mostly just sit and talk and joke and reminisce and Sam is happy.

* * *

Sam's eighty-fifth birthday is lonely. Jenn passed away some months ago, had a heart attack that came as a shock even if it wasn't entirely unexpected. His family comes to visit for a few hours, but after they leave the emptiness fills the house again and Sam finds his mind wandering back, back to days of his youth, to the warm leather of the Impala (_House rules, Sammy; driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.)_ and the smell of gunpowder and motor oil on Dad's jacket (_I just don't want to fight anymore.) _and Dean's protective stare (_I need you to be safe.)_ and Bobby's rough, exasperated voice (_Are you idjits tryin to kill me?) _and Castiel's confused and serious countenance (_I don't understand that reference.)_ and Jenn's smile (_Yes, of course I'll marry you!)_ and his children's laughter (_Tell us about Uncle Dean and Grandpa John and Grandpa Bobby again, Daddy!)_ and somewhere, buried deep in his mind and heart, a soft lovely voice that he thought he had forgotten (_Goodnight, love.)._

* * *

On Sam's eighty-eighth birthday he doesn't wake up.

A stroke in his sleep, the doctors say, assuring his distraught children. He probably never felt a thing. It was a peaceful death, more than most people can hope for, but there are many tears and hugs and heartbroken sobs anyway.

A lone hunter passing through the city notices Sam's name in the obituary, and spreads the word. Soon, hunters from all over the country are arriving in the small Kansas town, and BJ is surprised when hunter after hunter shows up at his door with _I knew your father, son- well, knew _of _him, _and _He was a great man, boy. A terrible loss, _and _I heard about your Daddy. Came as soon as I could._

BJ, Ella, and Mary never quite understood their father's exact wishes for his funeral, but it was what he wanted and so they follow his instructions anyway, with an open pyre lit up in flame under a starry sky. They can't help but think that it's beautiful.

Sam opens his eyes to somewhere warm and bright and beautiful. It's Bobby's house, at the height of the summer when everything seems like a perfect dream. He looks down at himself and he's young again, at his prime.

Dad's there, looking the same as always with his stubble beard and leather jacket and gruff but proud smile. Mom's there, pure and beautiful with not a drop of blood on her and not so much as a single burn. Jess is there, exactly how he remembered her, and Jenn is too, and he understands without knowing how he understands that here he can love them both because love here is flowing and endless and meant for all. Bobby's there, baseball cap still on his head and plaid shirt still rumpled.

And Dean's there too. Dean's there with the familiar light in his eyes and the smile on his face that was always saved for Sam. He pulls Sam into a bone-crushing hug and Sam holds on just as tight because _God _it's been so long and he's missed his brother _so damn much. _

There's a ruffle of feathery wings and Sam turns to see Castiel standing there looking the same way he always has, with the wrinkled trench coat and crooked tie. When Sam looks surprised the angel explains that he, Cas, is the exception to the no contact within Heaven rule because never in the history of the world has there been such a strong, loyal bond between an angel and humans as there is between Cas and the Winchester boys.

Dean throws an arm around his shoulder and leads him inside where there's a door that leads to the Roadhouse where he can hear all the friends and family that he's ever lost laughing and partying away, and for the first time in a very, very, long time, he feels purely and completely content.

And Sam Winchester, the last remaining of the line of the great Winchester hunters, is finally, eternally, happily at peace.

* * *

**This went on way longer than I expected it to, but I like it anyway. Like I said, this is a new style that I'm trying out, so it would be enormously helpful for you to leave me some feedback on whether or not you like it and why. Thanks so much! :)**


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